


The Art of Dance

by suchakidder



Series: Jearmin Week 2018 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M, Stripper!Jean, Strippers & Strip Clubs, but definitely more porn than I've written before, slight mikasa/sasha in the background, this is mostly PWP but somehow it's still not that much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchakidder/pseuds/suchakidder
Summary: Jearmin Week Day 5: DanceSasha drags Armin to his very first strip show and the results are... not what Armin expected.





	The Art of Dance

**Author's Note:**

> If you want some [visuals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLESEq2dRVY)

It was all Sasha’s fault. Her suggestion to go out had been innocent enough. Their routine had been a bit stale as of late; the most interesting thing they’d done in the past few weeks was getting to-go plates from the Chinese buffet on 5th instead of just ordering takeout. But Armin thought Sasha meant a movie or trivia night; he should have been suspicious when Sasha came over to the apartment, loaded with makeup and outfits, and didn’t start getting ready until seven, and when really suspicious when she didn’t call an Uber until nine. On the rare occasion their quartet went out, they were usually gearing up to head home by nine.

It was also probably a little bit Mikasa’s fault too. She’d been tipsy already when Armin got home from class at _two_ , she was pretty plastered by the time Sasha started getting ready. The last time Mikasa got that drunk had been Mikasa Watch 2015; Armin and Eren found her at a Whataburger two cities over. The smart move would have been to tuck Mikasa into bed before they left, or better yet, not gone at all, but Sasha was adamant. 

“We’re going where?” Armin asked after he heard the address Sasha gave their Uber driver to somewhere in the uptown district.

“A show. My friend Connie’s going to be in it.” Sasha said blithely from the front seat. 

“Sasha are you dragging me to another one of your friends’ weird experimental plays?” Eren asked. Armin was impressed with his diction; once he’d gotten off work at six, Eren had joined Mikasa on her quest to make Armin’s night miserable by immediately knocking back two shots. Of Everclear.

“No,” and because Armin was the only one sober enough to see the mischievous grin on her face, he had to be the one to ask-

“Sasha, if this is a prank-”

“It’s a strip show!”

Their reactions were a mixed bag. Armin groaned, Eren frowned, the Uber driver fist bumped. Mikasa leaned forward, trying her best to nuzzle into Sasha’s neck but got the headrest instead.

“My baby’s the best stripper,” Mikasa said, planting a sloppy kiss on the fabric. Armin hoped they didn’t get charged a cleaning fee.

“No, Mikasa it’s not me, it’s-”

“Sasha I don’t want to see anyone’s tits, I see enough of that at home.” Eren grumbled. 

“Would you let me finish? It’s a mixed review.”

“Mixed?” Armin had to ask, curiosity beating out his general dislike of bars and people.

“You know, guys, girls… And I don’t think they have any gender non-binary, but I bet they wouldn’t discriminate if they would audition for the show.” 

“So how do you know if the guy you’re getting a lap dance from is gay or straight?” Eren asked. 

“If the money’s good, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Armin, you’d give a girl a lap dance, wouldn’t you?” Sasha asked.

“Why are you singling me out?” 

“I’ve seen your moves during _Just Dance_ ” And it was true, _Just Dance_ was as integral a part of their weekend routine as Netflix. 

“I would give anyone, male, female, non-binary, a lapdance if they paid well,” the uber driver helpfully supplied. 

“See,” Sasha said and spent the rest of the ride debating with Eren and the driver what each of their stripper songs would be. 

When they got to the bar, Armin headed straight to the bartop, instructing the bartender not to serve Mikasa anything and getting a drink for himself because why the hell not, but when he made it to the table, Mikasa already had a plastic cup in her hand.

“Are we really sitting here?” Armin asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?” 

Because their table was close enough that any performer could step off the stage and onto the tabletop, and Armin was pretty sure they frequently did that because there was also a pole in the center of their table.

Mikasa giggled and kissed Sasha’s neck, this time much closer to actual target as she was already leaning heavily on her girlfriend, and got her drink-free hand under the bottom of Sasha’s shirt.

“Let’s give them a pre-show” Mikasa slurred. 

Sasha shrieked, whether playfully or not, Armin couldn’t tell and didn’t want to; this was Sasha’s mess. 

The show started not long after, an excited presenter stepping onto the stage to a raucous round of applause, half of it coming from their table. 

“Welcome to The Hole in the Wall Lounge, where are dancers are so hot, they’re steaming! I’m your MC Hange!” Hange was dressed like they’d come straight from a Rocky Horror Picture Show, fishnets, high heels, a corset topped with feathers. If this was just the MC’s get up, Armin could only imagine the rest of the show. 

“I can tell we have a good crowd tonight!” They continued, looking straight at their table. Eren, Mikasa and Sasha went wild clapping and cheering.

“You better show the same love to the dancers, because without further ado--” Techno pop began to play over the speakers, loud and pounding and already Armin felt a headache forming. 

A number of strippers, dancers, performers, what have you, came onto the stage, in get-ups that actually showed less skin than Armin had thought. He guessed they were saving it for later; how much barer could you get if you started in only underwear. They had a choreographed opening dance, a step below _Magic Mike_ but above a _Just Dance_ routine. One guy in particular, caught Armin’s eye-- he was tall, sculpted but not gym rat level, with an ash brown undercut. Armin liked his smile, cocky and a little rough, and he really liked when they guy paired up with one of the other dancers, Connie Sasha shouted in his ear, and grinded on him, but after the first song ended, Armin didn’t see him again.

Each dancer had an individual act. Sasha’s friend Connie, not the stereotypical stripper build- Connie’s body looked like Armin’s did on the occasion he hated himself enough to look in the mirror after showering- pleased the crowd like any of the others, doing a fast and fun routine to “Uptown Funk” of all things. A short blonde woman did an impressive pole routine to a Britney song, with such a hard, intimidating glare that Armin wondered if all the money thrown onto the stage was out of admiration or fear. 

All in all, Armin didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. He enjoyed watching the dancers, when they stayed a safe distance away and didn’t wiggle anything in Armin’s face, and they were quite talented. Sasha was wrong, Armin’s moves in _Just Dance_ where nothing compared to the feats he’d seen. It could also be the now three drinks coursing through his blood affecting his mood too. Eren and Mikasa weren’t even annoying him, though Mikasa being slumped against Sasha and having only enough coordination to clap every now then, probably helped too.

After a few more numbers, Hange came back to the stage and danced, losing the stockings and corset, but gaining at least $50 that Armin saw Eren slip into various crannies when they danced on their table. 

Then whole ensemble came back on the stage, the ones who’d danced previously dressed up again, all of them in pink glittery booty shorts and black tanks, and over the loud music - Katy Perry- Armin was aware Sasha was yelling something to the group.

“What?” He called back. A dancer, not Armin’s guy, though Armin was loath to identify him that way, stepped onto their table just then. Unsurprisingly Armin found it hard to communicate with a gyrating pink crotch in his face. He gave the dancer, a buff blonde guy, a tight smile and finished his drink in one gulp.

“Who’s your favorite?” Sasha yelled once Armin surrendered the only change--two dollars-- into the dancers hand.

“That guy!” Eren immediately answered, pointing, which was probably rude but this was their first revue after all, to a unoccupied corner of the stage. The closest dancer was the blonde girl, swaying her hips with as much intensity as her pole dance. 

“Annie?” Sasha asked.

“No! _That_ guy” Eren pointed even more emphatically, and if Armin strained he could make out a guy standing off to the wings.

“Eren, I don’t think that’s a stripper” Sasha yelled, as a feather boa sailed past her head.

The guy in question was fully dressed and holding a clipboard.

“He’s wearing pants. Trousers, I think,” Armin pointed out.

“No that’s his shtick.”

“Trousers?”

“You know like sexy firefighter”-- that had been the blonde guy’s routine-- “this guy is sexy businessman.” 

“I’ve never seen a stripper with a cravat!” Sasha yelled and turned her attention to Armin. “How about you?”

“Let’s talk more about sexy businessman.”

“Come on Armin, there’s got to be one you like.” Sasha needled and Eren got into it too, pointing at various dancers. Armin was sure their table was giving off mixed signals what with the pointing, excessive cheering, Armin’s avoidance at looking at the stage, and the one sleeping girl.

After the third or fourth guy Eren pointed at, who noticed and pointed back, Armin needed to put an end to it.

“Fine! That guy,” he said with a much more discreet head nod towards “his” guy. He’d come close enough to their table for Armin to see not only did he have a light line of facial hair at his jaw, which should have been frat boy chique but somehow he pulled it off, he was also packing an impressive bulge in his pink booty shorts. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he’d never come too close to their table.

“That horse face?” Eren asked with a grimace at the same time Mikasa sat up from her stupor with surprising sobriety and asked “Jean?”

Mikasa was met with “huh” and “you know him” from Eren and Sasha and an “oh god no” from Armin that he wasn’t sure if he said out loud of not.

“Jean, from my organizational communication class last semester. Jean! Jean!” Mikasa began to shout, waving both her arms to draw attention.

“You weren’t even supposed to be conscious,” Armin hissed but the damage was done and the guy, _Jean_ Armin supposed, was headed to the table. Armin finally made himself look up, catching Jean’s gaze as he took another step towards him. Armin smiled in what he hoped to be an alluring way and Jean promptly tripped over nothing and fell off the stage.

The whole bar gasped, Armin too, who realized he was on his feet before he even knew it. The music pounded on, but most of the other dancers stopped, causing at least one collision. Jean hadn’t even been fortunate to fall near one of the tables, he’d fallen the entire four-ish feet drop to the floor. A few dancers crowded the edge of the stage where he’d gone down, one even began to climb off the stage, but Jean popped up giving a thumbs up and smile despite the blood flowing freely down his face. 

Armin stood frozen, while Jean rushed out of the bar and into an employees only door, the audience giving him a wide berth. The music finally stopped and Hange took to the stage. 

“Well, that ended our half time show a little earlier than anticipated! But the show must go on!” The crowd cheered, back to it’s usual enthusiasm and the gap in the crowd at the front of the stage, where “sexy businessman” directed two employees in cleaning up the blood.

“One lucky patron gets to be a part of our show…” Hange was saying on the stage but Armin wasn’t paying attention to them, his eyes on the door. 

“It’s not something we do every show, but you’ve been such a good audience…” Hange’s voice was closer and when Armin finally looked at the stage, Hange was stepping off and onto their table.

“Hiya,” they said, not into the microphone but bending down to talk to Eren. “What’s your name?”

That was enough to unfreeze Armin; he was decidedly not drunk enough to handle whatever Eren was about to do. The crowd was less willing to part when it was just him, but he got through anyway, getting to the door just as Hange was saying to Eren, now standing center stage with them, “Who’s your choice?”

“I want him,” Eren pointed to the guy with the clipboard.

Armin opened the door to the laughter of the crowd, nobody stopping him, and stepped inside a narrow hallway with a few doors.

One door further down was opening, light and soft voices spilling out into the hall, and Armin took a chance and walked to that one. 

Inside a dressing room strewn with boas and makeup and so much glitter, Armin found Jean, sitting on a counter, head tilted back, and another man, one Armin had seen behind the bar, held a wadded up towel to Jean’s nose. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” the other guy was saying, “but you’re gonna need a lot of-- Oh-”

They both turned to stare at Armin in the doorway and he faltered in what he had prepared to say. Which hadn’t been much more than “I’m sorry”, he hadn’t done much thinking at all when he decided to head to the back.

“Sorry,” Armin finally said just as Jean was saying it too. And like that terrible, awkward moment when you need to step around someone and you each keep stepping to the same side, they kept saying things like “no, you first” and “sorry” and “you can-” at the same time until the other guy finally took pity.

“I’m gonna get some ice.” He transferred the rag to Jean’s hand. “I’ll just leave you two to uh… talk.” He hurriedly left the room and shut the door behind him on his way out.

“I’m sorry,” Jean shot in quickly before Armin could. 

“No, I am. I didn’t mean to… distract you.” 

“No it’s fine.” Jean pulled the rag away from his face slowly, but when no more blood flowed out he set it on the counter behind him. Though the wet blood had been wiped away, the entire lower half of Jean’s face was stained red, his jaw and his lips and the hair of his goatee and remarkably, he pulled that look off too. He looked up at Armin with a cheeky grin and if Armin hadn’t just seen him fall off the stage he might have swooned.

“I shouldn’t lose my footing just because a cute guy smiles at me; it happens often enough.” And Jean paused, that cheekiness gone as he replayed what he just said. “Cute guys I mean, not falling off the stage. And not that many cute guys, I mean, it’s a bar, and with our clientele we have attractive guys, attractive people, in all the time and … I’m just going to shut up now.”

“I’ll take the compliment,” Armin offered and Jean was smiling at him again. “I’ve never had anyone fall off the stage for me. Still, I feel like I should make it up to you.”

“Oh, no, it’s ok. We pool our tips so it’s not even like…” But Jean trailed off, going more quiet as Armin stepped closer and closer, until he was standing before him. Jean’s eyes flicked to Armin’s lips and back up. 

“I wasn’t thinking of money” and Armin sunk to his knees. 

It was the boldest thing he’d ever done. The trip down, all two seconds of it, Armin went through the entire range of human emotion --pride that he’d pulled that off, mortification at the thought Jean might turn him down when he was already on his knees, loss that as long as he lived he doubted he’d ever pull of a stunt like this again, and a thousand more emotions-- and looked up at Jean through his lashes, in what he hoped was sultry look. Armin usually couldn’t pull off sultry, or anything sensual at all, but when you were kneeling between someone’s outspread legs, he doubted you could look innocent or cherubic or even “cute”.

“Oh, um, I know I’m a stripper but we don’t really-” Jean said around a nervous chuckle. 

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to,” Armin heard himself say. Two for two, oh, he had never even approached this level of glib before.

Jean’s breath came in heavy pants and Armin was face to face with Jean’s crotch, he could tell Jean was excited at the prospect, but still Armin had a moment of doubt. 

“That is, if you want to,” Armin said, nodding at the hot pink fabric bulging before him. His mouth salivated at the thought. 

“Yes!” Jean exclaimed. “I mean, yes, you’re not obligated in any way--”

“I know”

“Then yeah, uh… be my guest?” The parts of Jean’s face not covered in blood were beat red too. Armin knew he was in too deep when even that was cute to him.

Armin reached for the waistband of Jean’s shorts, letting his fingers trail slowly down Jean’s abs, giddy with the thought that he was on his knees before a blushing and stuttering stripper, was about to suck the dick of a guy he hadn’t even exchanged names with.

“I’m Armin, by the way.”

Well, his sauve streak had to end somewhere.

To compensate, Armin pulled down on Jean’s waistband, freeing the package that was just as impressive as it looked from the outside. Hands braced, one on Jean’s thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his shaft where, good God, Armin’s fingers couldn’t reach his thumb, he leaned leaned in. Jean’s reply, his own name, was cut off with a moan as Armin closed his mouth around the head of Jean’s dick.

Like the moment a rollercoaster first lurched forward and you realized you were in for good, Armin had a sudden wave of panic hit, hard as a sucker punch and visceral. Jean was bigger than the few other guys Armin had sucked off, his mouth was stretched wide and taut around his girth. His stomach fluttered with doubt and he was beginning to think he’d overestimated his own ability when Jean’s hand brushed through his hair, settling low, his thumb soothing the spot where neck and jaw met, and that was assurance, that was enough.

Armin started slowly, taking Jean back as far as he could without expending much effort, letting his lips drag along Jean’s dick with the just lightest of pressure. No suction yet, no tongue, Armin pulled off slowly, lingering. And then, in a move he’d read only in Cosmo and never tried, he rubbed his face against Jean’s cock. 

It made sense why Cosmo included this tip, Armin liked it, feeling Jean’s cock on him, the hard, wet presence, the head soft and gummy and smearing his face with pre-cum, imagined pressing Jean’s cock against other places of him and couldn’t suppress the shudder at the thought. He could feel Jean pulsing under the hand wrapped around him and remembered he needed to move that one too. 

Armin’d been slow and gentle long enough, he didn’t want this too last forever and eventually someone might come looking for him. He tightened his hand, holding Jean in a firm grasp as he pumped up and down, twisting slightly. It worked on him when he jerked off, and if Jean’s response, his hand shooting up from Armin’s neck to clutch his hair indicated anything, it worked on Jean as well.

Armin returned to the actual blowing part of the job, stretching his lips wide to take Jean in again, this time deeper, sucking and stroking with his tongue as he went. Armin lost himself in the rhythm and Jean’s grunts and muttered assurements, things like “fuck yeah” and “god I love your mouth” and, once or twice, his name. 

“Not now, Marco.” Jean barked roughly at the door and Armin realized the pounding he was hearing was not his own heartbeat in his ears but a repetitive knocking on the door.

Armin dared a glace up, Jean’s looked wrecked, the hand gripping onto the counter white with strain, his face flush and eyes wild. Armin made eye contact and held it as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked _hard_. Jean gave a hoarse cry, his hips thrusting in shallow, aborted movements. Armin dug his nails into Jean’s thigh, an automatic response to Jean’s dick pushing in just a few centimeters deeper and that was it, Jean’s whole body shuddered and he was cumming. 

Armin didn’t have time to pull off, wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, though if he thought blowing Jean had been an overestimation of his skills, swallowing definitely was. He gagged and coughed, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes and Jean’s dick slipped out of his mouth with a wet pop just as the door opened up.

“Levi!” Jean yelled and Armin knew better than to turn around, as embarrassing as being caught in the act was, if he turned to face the person, people?, at the door, it’d be with swollen red lips and cum drying on his chin. Jean felt steady when Armin, suddenly feeling unsteady and spent, let his head rest against one of his thighs. Steady enough to handle whatever was happening behind him while Armin took deep breaths to cool down. The hand stroking his hair helped.

“Marco said you let a stranger in the dressing room, I’m not taking any risks with my employees,” A stern voice said.

“I’m sorry, I tried to stop him, I-”. That was the guy from before, who was holding the rag to Jean’s nose.

“I’ll just tell your friends you’re alright then.” That was Hange. With his luck the rest of the dancers were just beyond the door too.

“I’m obviously fine Levi, thanks.” 

Someone laughed. Probably Levi because his voice was next. “I don’t know you’ve got a bit of-”

“That’s enough.” Jean cut him off. “Can I get a little bit of privacy?” 

With a shuffling that sounded more like six feet, the voices left and the door shut eventually. Armin took the hand, warm and calloused, Jean offered and stood up shakily. 

Armin didn’t know what prompted him, but suddenly he was apologizing, just as Jean was too. After a second, a smile lit up Jean’s face, and then in another second he was chuckling and despite everything Armin joined in, laughing until Jean winced and touched his nose.

“I forgot about that,” Jean said, gingerly prodding at his nose. Around his right eye a bruise was starting to form and when Jean let go of his hand, he carefully twisted his wrist. 

“That too.” 

“I’ll-” Armin started but not only had it been several minutes since he last spoke, but he’d also had a considerably large cock down his throat in the time in between, so he had to cough before he could continue, “-take that as a compliment.”

After that, they fell into an awkward silence. Jean reached behind him to grab something to clean Armin off, first the blood covered rag, then an article of clothing, then, once Jean actually turned around and rifled through the spread on the counter, a clean towel. Armin would have been fine with even just a napkin, but he took the offered towel and rubbed at his face.

A knocking at the door startled Armin, and then he heard the worst thing possible.

“Armin? Are you ok?” 

If Sasha had to check on him… Armin shook his head and squared himself. “I’ll go now. I bet the other um, dancers, would appreciate having their dressing room back.” 

“Ok, yeah. I guess.” And Armin had taken a few steps towards the door, when he felt Jean’s hand on his wrist.

“And Armin,” Jean said, a little unsure. “I’ve already missed my number so I can get out of here at any time now, if you would want to…”

What Armin wanted was to curl up in bed and die of embarrassment, smooth-talking, blow a guy you barely just met Armin had fled minutes ago, but…

“I’m fine Sasha. I’m gonna take an Uber home later.” Armin answered as he turned to meet Jean’s small, hopeful smile.

“Alright! I’d tell you not to do anything I wouldn’t do but since you have already-”

Armin threw his balled up towel at the door. Definitely, all Sasha’s fault. Though, all in all, not the worst way the night could have gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with the concept and wrote the beginning of this four years ago, so when I saw day 5's prompt, I knew it was the right time to finish.
> 
> Sadly, I couldn't find the original file (I've had two laptops since then) not even on Google Docs where I found Teen Wolf fanfics from even further back, so I had to start anew. I lost some good stuff with Mikasa and Sasha in the process, but gained the Uber driver (I wrote this so long ago Uber wasn't even really a thing outside of the huge cities) who I liked a lot, despite not figuring out what character he would be. I did have to cut my favorite part of this fic (aside from the Jearmin) which is where Eren persuades Levi, who is the stage manager and not a performer, into giving him a lapdance
> 
> I'm sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this in a hurry! I may go back and fix them later. As always, thanks for reading.


End file.
